


metal hearts still love

by thebreathofafeather



Series: love me not with words [1]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Chronic Pain, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gen, Gifts as a Metaphor for Love, How Do I Tag, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Self-Worth Issues, canon typical dehumanization, mentioned noncon medical procedures, no beta we die like ulysses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebreathofafeather/pseuds/thebreathofafeather
Summary: Jonny never tells the crew he loves them. They all deserve better than him anyway, and he can’t give them kind words or emotional support. He does, however, make sure to give them gifts. Hand crafted trinkets and homemade food in which he shoves all of his repressed emotions. He knows they aren’t good enough for any of them, but he tries. He tries so hard to be worthy of them.
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville & Nastya Rasputina, Jonny d'Ville & The Mechanisms
Series: love me not with words [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946266
Comments: 22
Kudos: 127





	metal hearts still love

**Author's Note:**

> This,,, this is really angst heavy and I did not intend it to be, I'm so sorry. I started off going 'let's write some fluff' and then five words in I knew it wouldn't be.  
> I was projecting onto All of them the entire time, and I'm sorry.
> 
> End of Chapter Notes for more detailed TWs

Jonny shows affection through craft. While he’s famously good at snarking his crew, their first mate is not known for his affectionate word craft. Whenever he attempts to tell them he cares, he chokes up, the words get caught in his throat, and he’s likely to end up shooting something - or someone. Back on New Texas, kind words held double meanings; you’d always have to keep your eyes open for double meanings, for the possibility of a knife in your back. It’s a habit that’s stuck, and Carmilla definitely did not help that matter. She’d spin a web of kind words, hold Jonny tightly and promise she’d never let him go, never let him get hurt, then he’d be strapped down on a metal table with the Doctor leaning over him to experiment with his heart. 

His heart, now hardened both literally and metaphorically, can’t take another betrayal, this Jonny knows with certainty. Therefore he doesn’t tell the crew he loves them. It hurts too much to even acknowledge, but deep down he does know he loves them. Nastya, his sister, who’d been through so much by his side and promises to stay there. Ashes, who burnt their way into his heart with a flaming passion. Tim, who while blind had seen through his hardened mask. Brian who is kind, and nice, and somehow had fallen for Jonny even while knowing what Jonny has done, how he commits crimes of horrific proportion. Ivy, who is so _smart,_ shouldn’t she know better than to love _him?_ And Raphaella, practically an angel with her voice and wings and beauty. She could do better than him with ease, and yet she chooses to stay by his side. Jonny can’t fathom why Marius stays either, while not a Baron or a Doctor, he should know that Jonny’s so mentally fucked up that it’d be safer to leave. He doesn’t know why TS even pretends to like him anymore. It shouldn’t even bother at this point. At one point he ordered it to stop pretending to care for him, and it just looked at him confused; it asked how it should act towards him, and Jonny had shot it and left. Its behaviour did not change afterwards. So, Jonny never tells the crew he loves them. They all deserve better than him anyway, and he can’t give them kind words or emotional support. He does, however, make sure to give them gifts. Hand crafted trinkets and homemade food in which he shoves all of his repressed emotions. He knows they aren’t good enough for any of them, but he tries. He tries so hard to be worthy of them.

* * *

Nastya is the first person who receives these gifts; it doesn’t take her long to figure out who made the sweets that were left on her dresser. Jonny’s the only one she ever told about her love of butterscotch, and therefore it could only have been him. She smiles slightly, and pops one into her mouth. They’re delicious; sweet and warming and- _perfect_. They remind her of when Alyosha brought her sweets from the town down below the palace. She smiles, it’s a bittersweet memory, but she’s glad Jonny remembered when she told him about it. 

The sweets become a regular occurrence and it takes a year before the next gift joins them - a coat. One Nastya is very familiar with, but had thought it lost. The coat Alyosha had wrapped around her shoulders when they attempted to escape the rebel attack on Cyberia’s Palace. The sight of it brings Nastya to tears, it had been ripped and bloodstained when Nastya had seen it last but Jonny must’ve had it fixed, somehow. She recognises how much work must’ve gone into it, and she cries harder. She can feel Aurora’s worry and manages a broken smile.

“I am fine, my love,” she speaks with a shuddering breath. “Jonny gave me a gift. A wonderful gift. I am sad and happy, and don’t know how to feel.” Her girlfriend gives a rumbling hum, and Nastya runs her hand against the wall. “I’ll need to thank him somehow.”

Nastya doesn’t take off the coat over the next few days. She’s almost as bad at words as Jonny is, but she makes sure he knows how grateful she is to him. She doesn’t know how many hours he spent accidentally pricking his fingers on needles to stitch the fabric back together, how much money he spent on fabrics that matched exactly, how many spools of thread he had to steal, and how many times he yelled in frustration at how it wasn’t _perfect_ for his sister. 

Nastya does, however, manage to catch him alone a week after he had left the coat hung up in her room. She signals to him that she wants a hug, and he allows it. She holds him tight, and murmurs to him.

“Thank you Jonny.” Neither of them mention how her words had sent them both into tears, nor how they spent the next few hours curled in the engine room in each other's arms.

* * *

Ashes is the next person who Jonny begins to gift, but it takes them a little longer to figure out who is leaving the presents. They weren’t expecting it, and so when they walked into their room and found the heating box on their table they were immediately concerned. Inside lay a basket of bread rolls, clearly handmade. The rolls still have the freshly baked smell that make Ashes remember their childhood, being young and hungry. They remember the kind baker on the old corner, who used to ‘accidentally’ burn some of the rolls, then give them out to the children at the orphanage. 

It takes a moment for Ashes to return to the present before they finally pick up one of the rolls. It feels warm in their hands, and they take a deep breath. The scent brings an intense, fond feeling of nostalgia. They rip it in half carefully, revealing the wholemeal interior, and they smile. At this point, they honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the bread was poisoned, but it smells good, and it reminds them of a different time. A time when they weren’t worried about the Doctor storming the halls of the Aurora, when they weren’t worried about the fact that their lungs might simply stop working due to a jammed gear or a faulty wire. A time with a different set of concerns; no less horrific, but at least then they had a space that was _somewhat_ safe to rest in. Ashes honestly isn’t sure which life is worse, being young, afraid of death and worried about their next meal, or being immortal, and afraid of their creator, afraid of pain. They shake their head, now is not the time to think about that debate. 

Ashes bites into the bread, and hell, it’s damn good bread. They’re surprised that it isn’t poisoned, and they rip off another strip to eat. The pattern is weirdly familiar, and they cast their mind to _who_ might’ve made it. It couldn’t have been from planetside, it was too fresh for that, but they’re fairly certain that Nastya can’t cook, and while the good Doctor can, they don’t believe her the type to intentionally make something of specific sentimental value. Then they think of Ivy, who doesn’t seem the type either, certainly not without announcing that she was going to attempt a recipe and bullying others into tasting it to make sure she did it right. Brian is a possibility, Ashes ponders, but he would ask others to taste it as well, and certainly wouldn’t give it to Ashes specifically. He’d make it for everyone, and make a loaf, not rolls. It can’t have been the Toy Soldier, because Ashes hasn’t almost choked on teeth yet, so that leaves… Jonny. And it hits them, Jonny had seen them by the bakery last time they had gone planetside. He had seen them purchase as much bread as they could carry, and watched them take it to the orphanage. He must’ve seen them give it out and ensure that each child got food. They wince. So, they think, is this a threat? What is he planning? Why _this?_

Ashes walks in on Jonny the next time he’s baking the loaves. They don’t question him, just move to stand next to him, and ever so gently hip bump him to move away from the dough that he had been kneading to take over. He gives a half smile, surprisingly gentle for Jonny, and allows them to knead, grabbing a second batch from where it had been left to rise, and starting to flour down the next section of the counter so he could knead. Neither of them speak throughout the cooking process and they part ways after Jonny sets aside both doughs to prove again. Ashes receives another basket of bread that afternoon, and they smile as they receive it. 

Breadmaking becomes ritualistic for them, whenever Ashes is stressed, Jonny either pulls them aside and fetches the ingredients for the dough, or Ashes will find a basket of bread rolls in their room with a small selection of various preserves, both jams and chutneys. They’ll never admit that it makes them smile each and every time either occurs, and Jonny will never admit that he does it to say ‘I love you’ but both of them understand the meaning.

* * *

Ivy is the third person to receive gifts from Jonny. She understands that the handbound journal is from him immediately. It’s cover is a soft leather, embossed beautifully with flowers and ivy, clearly handbound. The paper inside is thick and also clearly handmade, the edges rough and uneven in an incredibly appealing way. It had been left on her desk in the library, and she had found it after a mad rush to return to the library during breakfast. Under her request, Aurora had informed her that someone had entered the library without permission, and she had rushed to make sure that chaos hadn’t struck her precious collection of books - it hadn’t. Instead she had found the journal. She runs her fingers over the ivy on the cover, and shakes her head. 

Ivy isn’t sure what to use the journal for; her mind can keep track of everything, she has no need for notes or a diary. She looks over the cover, and flicks through the pages. Jonny hadn’t just bought it, Ivy knows this as easily as she knows that he cares more than he says. She knows that he thought long and hard on what to give her, and how to make it. If he didn’t already know how to fully make a book - there’s a 46.8% chance that he did - he would have had to learn it, and would’ve learnt it _just_ to give her a gift he deemed perfect. It brings a smile to her face, and she brushes her fingers over the ivy on the cover again. It was sweet of him, not that she would ever say it aloud. She enjoys knowing he cares enough to go to such lengths for her. 

The second time Aurora alerts Ivy that Jonny has entered the library, Ivy predicts that there’s a 84.2% likelihood that it’s to deliver another gift, and so she risks taking her time returning rather than rushing to check her archives. They had gone planetside the day before, and had left early that morning. Jonny had disappeared when they had landed, and returned with just enough time to not be left behind. When questioned on it, he had told Tim to ‘shut the fuck up’, before shooting the Master-at-Arms and retreating to his room. Ivy had been curious, but knew that the likelihood of her discovering the truth was minuscule so she didn’t ask herself. Now, she knows that it was something to do with whatever was going to be waiting for her on her desk. 

When she arrives, she’s honestly surprised to see the plate of delicate circular shortbread sitting next to _another_ journal. This one is darker than the first, another spread of ivy is embossed on the cover, different from the first journal. She then turns her gaze to the shortbread. They’re topped with crystallised violets and sugar, and look stunning. She picks up a biscuit and bites into it, it crumbles in her mouth and she quickly cups a hand under her chin to prevent a cascade of crumbles falling onto her desk. The shortbread melts in her mouth, and she smiles. Jonny has outdone himself, both with the book and the biscuits; he really has paid attention to her tastes. She finishes up the first shortbread biscuit, and then speaks up. 

“Aurora, would you ask if the Toy Soldier would be available for tea in say, 10 minutes? Perhaps an earl grey?” Aurora sends out a screen that shows a thumbs up, and she chuckles. She knows there’s a 97% chance that TS will be up for tea, and Aurora sends out a screen a few moments later confirming her suspicions. 

_‘The Toy Soldier agrees and wonders if it would be allowed to invite Nastya as well?’_ The screen reads, and Ivy smiles, there was an 82.3% chance that TS would ask for Nastya to join was well.

“Of course. The tea room in 10 minutes?” Aurora sends a thumbs up again, and Ivy smiles. 

After sharing the shortbread with TS and Nastya - the latter had looked up with understanding as the shortbread was presented; Nastya knew exactly where it had come from - Ivy returns to the library. She combs through her collection of cookbooks, she has a certain one in mind, and she finds it fairly quickly. She grabs the second notebook and begins to translate the recipes into Basic. She then looks over to the first journal and hums to herself - what to use it for… She glances over at the last piece of shortbread that she had returned with, and smiles. Now she knows what she’ll do. 

* * *

Jonny spends a little more time thinking over what to give Brian, he’s the fourth person in their mismatched family, and he wants it to be perfect for him. 

Brian finds the blanket folded on the end of his bed. It’s large, in a shade of dark blue thick wool. It looks cozy, and he smiles at it. He had something similar on his home planet; a tan knitted blanket made by his grandmother a long long time ago. He reaches out to grab it, and that’s when he notices the fine wire mixed into the weave. It takes him a moment to realise what it is, but when it hits him, he’s flooded with gratitude. It’s a handknitted heated blanket, large enough to cover his bed easily. 

Brian has spent a lot of his immortal life cold. Carmilla hadn’t exactly thought about heating brass, and his nerves were oddly sensitive to temperature. It is something Brian doesn’t mention, however, as he really doesn’t want to end up on her table again. This blanket would be a lifesaver - not literally, but it’ll help him regulate his temperature more. He looks at the wires - Nastya’s doing, it seems, but the knitting itself… perhaps Jonny? It seems out of character, but none of the others seem like knitters either. He shakes his head lightly, he can ask later. For now, he is going to nap under his new blanket and see what the temperatures are like.

  
  
  


The second gift comes after Brian complained about the joints of his fingers freezing up when he got too cold. He enters his room, ready to curl up under his now favourite blanket in an attempt to warm up after going planetside. They had docked two days ago on a planet entirely encased in ice, and Brian had spent the entire time stiff and sore due to the cold locking his gears in place. Jonny had disappeared on the first day, and Brian had watched Nastya, Ashes and Ivy share glances with one another before looking at him briefly. He had shrugged it off at the time, but now he knows why; on the bedside table rests two things. A steaming mug of what smells like hot cocoa, and a pair of woollen gloves lined with fur. Examining the gloves further, Brian almost immediately sees the fact that these too are heated, and he mentally thanks Jonny. They’re easy to slip on, and he easily adjusts the temperature, relaxing as the gloves begin to warm his hands. 

Brian sits on the bed, book in one hand, cocoa in the other. The drink has been spiked; no surprises there, but it’s warming and tastes pretty good. He thumbs through his book gently, enjoying the free movement of his fingers for the first time in days. The blanket is on as well, set across his lap, it warms his legs enough for him to move properly. He smiles and begins to think of a way to thank Jonny for his efforts.

* * *

The Toy Soldier shows up soon after Brian, but it takes several centuries for Jonny to start giving it things. It really doesn’t mind though; it’s just Happy To Be Involved, and when Jonny _does_ involve it, it’s glad that Jonny is helping it Pretend to be a person.

The first gift it receives is a tea set. It’s obviously hand painted, and the Toy Soldier immediately knows that Jonny made it; he’s been making things for the others too, so it guesses that he just wants to humour it’s game of pretending to be real. The concept makes TS smile, and it touches each of the cups in turn. They’re delicate, each one with a different scene from the war with the Moon Kaiser, and it loves them. Jonny has somehow managed to capture the Soldier in each one and it thinks it looks Absolutely Spiffing. 

The Toy Soldier sets about making itself some tea in it’s new teapot, and it freezes a moment. It can’t decide what tea to make, which makes it panic slightly. It takes a breath and Pretends to calm down, just like it was told to by Bertie when they were in the war against the Moon Kaiser together. It glances through it’s tea collection before selecting the black tea blend that Jonny uses when he’s making sweet tea. It takes a moment for the Toy Soldier to boil the kettle, and then it moves through the ritualistic movement of getting the pot ready to brew. It heats the pot before spooning two teaspoons of leaves into the pot and pouring the water over them. It closes the lid, and puts the tea cozy over the top, and begins to wait. On the three minute mark, it speaks.

“Shall I Be Mother?” And when no one responds, it turns the teapot three times clockwise. It then carefully puts the strainer over a cup, and pours in the tea. 

When it finishes it’s ritual, the Soldier sips it’s cup carefully, thinking about Jonny. It decides that it will bring Jonny some iced sweet tea later as a Thank You.

  
  


The second gift comes at some point after Raphaella and Marius both arrive. The Soldier returns from an Absolutely Jolly tea party with Nastya and Ivy to find an old Rose Red uniform hanging in the corner of the room. It sees the number stitched onto the breast of the red coat, and freezes. This is Old Rosy’s uniform. Jonny had given it Old Rosy’s uniform, fixed up and clean. There are none of the old bloodstains, none of the wear and tear that had come from the war. None of the charred fabric that must’ve occurred after the explosion that killed Old Rosy, and then the Toy Soldier begins to Pretend to cry. It aches in it’s chest, and it doesn’t know what to do. The wail it releases is sharp and pained, and it knows it should be quiet; it’s a toy, just Pretending, but it can’t seem to stop, and the cries continue. Broken sobs and shuddering wails continue, and it cannot stop, because it’s Pretending to be Real, and a Real Person would grieve, and so TS cannot stop Pretending. 

It’s Nastya who comes into it’s room to see it kneeling on the floor, pretending to wail it’s heart out of it’s chest. She sees the uniform and seems to understand what’s going on. 

“TS?” She murmurs, crouching down next to it. “Can I touch you?” It manages to nod through it’s sobs, and Nastya almost immediately tugs it onto her lap after she sits properly. She adjusts it so that it can Pretend to cry into her shoulder, and her hand comes up to rub circles into it’s shoulder.

“I-” it has to stop and allow another wail to breach it’s throat, “I Can’t Stop Pretending.” And the sobs come even harder. Nastya attempts to shush it to no avail. “I Can’t Stop Pretending. I Want To Stop Pretending.”

“TS…” Nastya begins, and then stops. She doesn’t seem to know what to say. “TS you are a real person. You aren’t pretending.” It shakes its head and sobs even harder. No tears fall, but Nastya’s heart aches with each sound. 

“I Appreciate The Fact That You Play Along With Me, But I Know I’m Not Real.” It finally manages, and Nastya shakes her head softly, but keeps rocking the Toy Soldier back and forth soothingly. 

Finally the Soldier calms enough to keep speaking. “I Apologise Nastya, I Was Pretending And I Couldn’t Stop. Thank You For Helping Me. I Have Stopped Pretending Now. Jonny Gave Me An Old Uniform, And I Needed To Pretend To Grieve Because That Is What A Real Person Would Do.”

Nastya nods gently, and the Soldier believes she understands. “Maybe we can discuss it the next time we have tea.” She states, and it nods.

“That Would Be Jolly Good Fun. We Can Even Use The Tea Set Jonny Made Me.”

* * *

Sixth comes Tim. When he isn’t practicing with the band or cleaning his guns, he spends the majority of his time with the octokittens. He thinks they’re bizarre at first, but soon finds himself enamoured by them. He’d never been a cat person, they had been Bertie’s preference though, and the pair had adopted an old, half blind cat when they had first moved in together. She had been a feisty thing, and they had dubbed her ‘Duchess’ after an extremely old film that Bertie had seen once - the Aristocats, Tim thinks it was called. While Tim himself had always been a dog person, Duchess had won him over, and now he takes the octokittens as being the closest creature he can currently get to Duchess. 

It comes as a surprise when Tim arrives in his room to see that, on top of his favourite gun, sits a stuffed toy. An octokitten, sewn to look vaguely like the Duchess, and Tim’s eyes start to water. He steps forward to touch it, and the fabric is soft. Faux fur, he thinks, but maybe it’s real, either way, it is almost too similar to the Duchess’s own fur, and he’s suddenly crying. He picks it up, and the underside of the tentacles are velveteen and soft, and he buries his face into it. His eyes - his wrong, mechanical eyes - blur, and he fights back a sob. He stumbles over to his bed and cradles the toy in his arms. It’s perfect- she’s perfect. The eyes are glass and clearly hand painted, blue into a foggy grey, and they match what the Duchess’s used to be. Tim sobs brokenly into the soft toy, rocking back and forth softly. He cries for his cat, which leads him to cry for Bertie, which leads him to cry about everything. 

When he comes out of it, there’s a decently sized wet patch on the toy, and his head hurts. He sniffs softly and brings his arm up to wipe away the tears and snot that mark his face. He knows he isn’t a pretty sight, and sighs. He needs a hot bath, a cup of tea, and to shoot something.

It takes around five minutes for the Toy Soldier to appear at his door with a pot of tea and two mugs, and Tim chuckles at the sight of it.

“‘Rora send you?” And the Soldier nods.

“I Have Tea, And Am Happy To Give Hugs.” It tells him, and then Tim spends his evening with the Toy Soldier, drinking tea, and when that was done, he taught it to shoot one of his guns.

The second toy arrives four months later, and that’s when Tim puts together who made them both. Sitting next to the Duchess is a soft toy version of Better Jonny, and Tim bursts out laughing. He picks it up, and it’s made of the same soft material as the Duchess. It’s then he notices the ribbon around its neck. On it rest several handmade enamel pins, each one with a set of pronouns emblazoned in clear writing. Each pin is a different colour, and there is one badge for each pronoun set he uses. He runs his fingers over them gently, and smiles; it’s not a violent smile, not his typical manic, bloodthirsty one, but a soft, kind one. 

“Thanks Jonny.”

* * *

Raphaella’s gift comes next, she finds it sitting on the only clean bench in her lab, and she knows it must have been placed there while she and the Toy Soldier had tea. It’s an embroidery hoop, off-white fabric stretched through it with the words _‘Raphaella la Cognizi’_ stitched into it in golden thread, followed by _‘as beautiful and cruel as she is Science’_ and she laughs. It’s pretty, purple flowers stitched into the background with a little beaking of smoking liquid at the bottom. Jonny’s put a lot of work into it, she can tell. 

Raphaella runs her fingers over the stitches and smiles. It feels delicate and soft and perfect. The others had told her briefly that Jonny would make gifts for people, and that she wasn’t to bring it up with him - Brian had attempted it, and Jonny had shot him four times before running off to hide for two weeks. She’d like to thank him in some way, and settles for making him a new vial of that acid he enjoyed using when they were in the city.

It takes her a few days to clear up enough space on the wall to hang it up, but a week later, she finds another hoop hanging next to it, this time of a feather that looks like one of her primaries. She chuckles, and keeps working. 

The third hoop surprises her. It shows up six months later, and is of a night sky with a person - obviously her - flying on it. It’s not the embroidery that surprises her, but what dangles from it; a charm bracelet with several charms hanging from it. There is a flower, a feather, and what looks like a conical flask. They’re sweet and small, made of silver.

The next charm to appear is a wheel that matches the ones used on Fort Galfridian. The Fifth is an owl, one that matches the ones Athena used in the city. Another charm arrived; a wolf that matched Lyssa’s crest. Over the next few years, Jonny gave a charm that matched every role she had ever played with the Mechanisms. 

She wears the bracelet on her wrist proudly, and shows it off to the others, never mentioning that Jonny made it, but they all know. Raphaella sees Jonny smile whenever she fiddles with it, and she hopes he knows how much she loves him.

* * *

Marius’s gift comes last, and he is aware of the tradition of Jonny confessing his love without actually saying the words. He’s been anxious about it for a while, and so when he sees the box on his dresser, he isn't sure what to expect, a joke, or perhaps a gift hand crafted specifically for him. He isn’t sure what concept is worse. He very tentatively picks up the box - it’s maybe six inches by four, and quite deep. He lifts the top off, and looks inside, and blinks a few times. Not exactly what he was expecting, but belts… were definitely not what he thought would be there. There are six of them, each in varying shades of brown and black. Marius picks up the top one, and the leather feels sturdy and he admires the buckle - it’s clearly been designed for him; it’s a bronze coloured Caduceus, and he snorts. 

He tries each one on, and they fit perfectly until he reaches the final two and frowns. They’re the thinnest of the lot, and look… odd. He isn’t sure how they’re meant to fit, but they don’t sit right on his waist. Then he sees the card in the bottom of the box. It’s a quick drawing of a pair of boots, with belts wrapped around them. Below is scrawled in Basic _‘happy belt crimes’_ and Marius laughs long and loud. He reaches down and wraps the boot-belts around each foot, adjusting each one to sit right, and then puts on the other four as well. 

“Happy belt crimes indeed.” Marius grins, and then goes to bother the others by the concept of all the belts he’s wearing. 

  
  
  


The second gift is even more of a surprise than the first. Marius enters his room, and he can _smell_ it. He initially thinks it’s hashbrowns, but the scent doesn’t quite match up. He makes it over to his table, and looks down at the plate. It’s a meal, but the star of the show is the rosti that rests, making the room smell delicious. His mouth waters - he hasn’t had rosti in so _so_ long. He freezes slightly; his crew _are_ the type to poison people, but the food smells so _good._ He grabs the knife and fork that rest next to it, and sits to eat. He’s right; it’s delicious and _perfect._ He knows it was Jonny - he’s the only one who can cook well, and rosti are famously finicky if you haven’t made them before. Everyone would know if someone else had attempted them. 

The rosti brings back memories for Marius; sitting at home watching his Grandma make rosti by hand, humming a song she no longer remembered the lyrics to. Her calling him up to help out, and making his own rosti for the first time. They had fallen apart in the pan, and he’d gotten frustrated and ended up burning. His Grandmother had laughed and told him that everyone messed up their first rosti, and then she had put the burnt mess in their compost and grabbed more potatoes and told him to crack on with it and make another batch. The second batch turned out better, and the third better still. 

It’s then that Marius thinks; where did Jonny get the potatoes? They hadn’t been planetside for months, the tubers wouldn’t last _that_ long, and reconstituted potatoes wouldn’t make such good rosti. And then he remembers his garden. He had complained a few days ago that he had too many potatoes and didn’t know what to do with them… had Jonny listened? Marius finishes up the meal and gets up to go and check.

He makes it to his garden and looks through his crops. Jonny _had_ used his potatoes, but surprisingly enough hadn’t ruined anything. Everything was clean, harvested properly and honestly tidier than Marius would usually leave the room. He lets out a laugh. Not only had Jonny made him rosti, but he’d cleaned up after himself. 

* * *

The Mechanisms all gather in the Rec Room bar Jonny. Nastya stands at the head of the room, and she stares at her crewmates; her family.

“We need to talk about Jonny.” She states, and everyone looks at her. “He doesn’t think we love him. We need to make sure he knows.” At that, Marius frowns.

“But… we tell him we love him, right? I make sure to tell him every day.”

“He…” At this point, Nastya trails off. It’s clearly something she and Jonny have talked about, but she isn’t sure whether she should share it to the crew or not. “He struggles to believe it when we tell him. He doesn’t… feel worthy.” It’s Ivy who nods, followed by Brian a few seconds later.

“I didn’t notice it very much before, but he does stiffen up when we talk about caring for him,” Brian begins. “I hadn’t thought to look into it though.” Nastya nods.

“He makes things for us to show us he cares, because he does not feel safe using words.” Nastya explains. It’s clearly a hard topic for her; she’s stiff and formal. Ivy moves over to her and places a hand on her shoulder.

“What can we do to help him?” The Archivist asks.

“We make something for him. Together.” Nastya says. “Any ideas?”

* * *

Jonny has had a rough day. His crewmates are being too loud, all the lights are too bright, everything is just a little too much, and none of it helps the pounding headache that has been pulsing in his head since the evening before. He enters his room and proceeds to flop face first down onto his bed without turning on the lights. Jonny lets out a long groan and then rolls onto his back, bringing up his hands to rub at his eyes. He lies still, the room is quiet enough for him to faintly make out the _tick tick tick_ of his heart and he grumbles softly. He rolls onto his side and settles down to nap.

It’s the knock on his door that wakes Jonny up from his nap. He scrambles to sit up, reaching for his gun on instinct until he hears Nastya’s voice from the hallway.

“Jonny? Crew wants to meet in the kitchen in five. It’s mandatory.” Jonny lets out a groan.

“It’s not mandatory anymore.” And he flops back down onto the bed.

“If you aren’t there, Ashes and Tim will come and carry you through. I won’t stop them this time.” 

“Oh fuck off.” Jonny says, but he sits up anyway. “Fine, I’m coming.” 

“Good,” and Jonny can hear the smug expression on Nastya’s face. “See you in five.” Her footsteps echo faintly as she walks away, and Jonny groans again.

He changes, taking his sweet time because while he’s resigned to going to the meeting, that doesn’t mean he can’t be late. 

Approaching the kitchen, Jonny is concerned; it’s too quiet, eerily so for a crew that never really rests. While Aurora keeps up a regular day/night cycle for them to follow, they rarely keep up with it, instead happy to wreak havoc on their bodies by working until they drop. So to hear the ship so quiet is disconcerting. He gets closer and can hear whispering coming from inside the kitchen.

“You said he was coming Nastya, he’s not _here,_ ” Marius is a famously bad whisperer, and Jonny can hear him almost word for word.

“There is a 94.7% chance that Jonny decided to arrive late; be patient Marius. He’ll come.” Ivy’s voice responds. Jonny shakes his head, and questions himself; does he actually have the energy to deal with his crew? He almost turns away, but he hears Nastya’s voice speak, and changes his mind.

“We did this _for_ him. He’ll come. He has to. Then he’ll know.” _Know what?_ Now he has to go in, if simply to find out what he doesn’t already know.

He pushes open the door to the kitchen, and it’s dark. His crewmates are crowded around a clearly hand iced cake that sits on the table with a bunch of wrapped gifts lying on the table and behind them on the floor. Jonny freezes.

“What the fuck is this?” He questions, stiff and uncomfortable.

“We- uh-” Marius starts to speak.

“There is an 89.3% chance that you do not believe we love you. You do not respond well to us telling you, so we thought we’d show you instead.” Ivy cuts in before Marius manages to dig a hole for himself. Nastya nods.

“We have cake, and gifts. All home made, or as close as we could get to home made.” Jonny stiffly walks up to the table to stand next to his sister. “You don’t have to open them with us here, but we want you to take them.” 

Jonny nods and Marius shoves a box at him - Jonny recognises the box as the one he put Marius’s belts into, all those years ago. It almost brings a smile to his face. Almost. He opens the box and finds a wrist cuff with eight different sections, each a braid of leather and thread.

“We all made it together! Each braid is from one of us, including Aurora!” Marius crows, he’s clearly very proud of the cuff, and Jonny doesn’t realise he’s started to cry. Marius’s eyes widen, and he looks at Nastya in panic.

“Jonny?” She says, and it’s weirdly gentle for her. “Are you okay?” He nods and makes a choked off noise. “Can I touch you?” 

He nods again.

“Can I hug you?” Nastya requests. He nods and half melts into her arms as soon as she does, the sobs coming hard and fast. He knows the others are looking at each other and at him with concern; they’ve never seen him like this before. They’ve seen him angry, seen him in pain, but they’ve never seen him in such a state of raw distress. He cradles the cuff in his hands, and Marius whispers, far too loudly.

“Did… we do something wrong?” Ivy shakes her head, as does Jonny, quite frantically.

“No. No, it’s perfect.” Jonny manages through sobs. He struggles to slip it onto his wrist, and Brian quietly steps forward to assist him. 

“Could I hug you, Jonny?” Brian asks, and his tone is soft and gentle. Jonny nods, and Nastya shifts him into Brian’s arms. He clings to Brian until Raphaella steps up, and soon Jonny is being passed between all of the crewmembers for hugs. 

When he’s finally let go by Marius, Jonny has managed to mostly stop crying, but his face is a mess of tears and snot. Brian offers a handkerchief and Jonny uses it to wipe his face up. He swallows, looking at his feet. He knows if he looks up at the others he’ll start to cry again. 

“Thank you.” Jonny murmurs, but the others hear it clearly. He runs his fingers over the various braids in different colours and smiles. They feel nice under his fingers, and he can tell who they represent with ease. 

“Jonny, we have other things too, if you want?” Raphaella speaks after a moment, and Jonny looks up and smiles a watery smile. She laughs, her own voice oddly wet then passes another box over to him. He opens it carefully, and inside is a large sealed bottle, filled with floating wooden charms that look strangely similar to the bracelet Raphaella wears.

“I couldn’t get them small enough for a bracelet, so I thought a whiskey bottle would be fitting.” Raphaella explains, but Jonny sets the bottle down and hugs her fiercely. It’s unusual for Jonny to initiate contact, and Raphaella lets out a little ‘oof’ as he does so, but immediately she wraps her arms around him. “I’m glad you like it.”

The other Mechanisms each give Jonny a gift, and he gives them a hug in return. He starts to cry again soon after Raphaella’s gift, but everyone knows that they’re happy tears, and most join him. 

After the last gift - a recipe book from Ivy, written in one of the journals he gave her. Jonny tugs them all into a group hug, and they box him in carefully. He murmurs into the center, and all the Mechanisms hear him but will never admit what he said.

“I love you all.”

**Author's Note:**

> TWs:  
> Jonny not believing he deserves the love of his crew  
> TS's canon typical dehumanization  
> Mention of canon typical noncon medical proccedures (Doc. Carmilla)  
> Grief over the loss of loved ones (Tim and Bertie, TS over a Rose Red)  
> Brian having chronic pain
> 
> whoo boy, this is the longest thing I've written that has been by choice hjkgfhkjf  
> chapter 2 coming features Aurora and Dr. Carmilla...
> 
> I am tempted to write something about TS, Ivy and Nastya dealing with TS's 'I'm Not Real' issues... hmm.
> 
> Up next should be how Ivy shows affection,,, maybe.
> 
> [now with art by me](https://samebloodtogether.tumblr.com/post/631016359753613312/a-super-super-messy-fill-of-day-3-4-of-mechtober)
> 
> Let me know if I need to tag anything else,,, I am unused to tagging.


End file.
